


Arrivals/Departures

by neensz



Series: fisher'verse [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:38:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4796336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neensz/pseuds/neensz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's take on the first bit of Coming Home</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrivals/Departures

**Author's Note:**

> I found this on my GDrive, and don't think I ever posted it anywhere. So... I'm doing that now.

ARRIVALS / DEPARTURES

 

Arthur waited impatiently at the edge of the TSA’s secured zones for gates E, F, and G at the Birmingham-Shuttlesworth International Airport. He craned his neck, looking for a familiar beanpole he hadn’t seen in nearly five years. The arrivals board had said all the Alaskan Airways flights were on time, so he should be coming through soon. Arthur suppressed the overwhelming urge to fidget as he waited.

There was the familiar shock of dark brown hair he’d been waiting for, higher off the ground than when he’d last seen it. “How the hell you manage to get even taller than the last time I seen you, Em?” Arthur asked, grabbing him in a bear hug when Merlin looked like he was going to walk right on past Arthur; he must not have seen him.

Merlin looked like he’d just woken up—he had a red mark on his forehead that was probably from propping his head against the airplane window—and his raggedy sweats smelled so strongly of fish that Arthur held his breath while he had Merlin pulled in tight against him. Merlin just stood there in Arthur’s arms, not making any move to hug back. Arthur finally released him, feeling awkward.

“Morgana’s supposed to be picking me up,” Merlin looked over Arthur’s head at the crowd surrounding them, presumably searching for Morgana’s distinctive sartorial style.

Arthur shrugged, and glanced at the security guard behind and to the left of Merlin. The guard was staring at them, her mouth in a hard line. “She had a thing, asked me to come pick you up.”

Merlin’s mouth twisted in a wholly unfamiliar way, and he finally met Arthur’s eyes. Arthur almost took a step back from the stranger staring out at him from behind Merlin’s face, but he held his ground. Merlin was probably just tired. Arthur had heard, via Morgana, that according to Merlin’s letters, commercial fishing was a whole lot more hard, damp, smelly, sleep-deprived work than the Discovery Channel’s reality shows had led Arthur to believe.

“Hey, Arthur, long time no see,” he finally prompted Merlin, after the silence began to unnerve him.

Merlin pushed past Arthur without the usual caution most people took around him once they’d spotted the prosthetic that replaced his left leg at mid-thigh. It was high-tech and gleaming, and cost more than Arthur guessed he was worth, but the Marines took care of their own and Arthur hadn’t had to drop a dime on it. It was nice, having someone not treat him like he was made of glass just because part of him was made of metal.

Unfortunately, Merlin didn’t come off as not noticing Arthur’s ‘handicap’ because he was being thoughtful. Arthur got the impression it was more like the complete opposite.

But Arthur was stubborn. (His commanding officers and physical therapists could corroborate that statement, though they’d probably throw in a few more expletives.) He followed Merlin to the airport’s Starbucks kiosk, where Merlin ordered an IV of caffeine and continued to ignore Arthur. When Merlin sat down at one of the rickety little tables surrounding the kiosk, Arthur followed suit, ignoring the pointed glare aimed his way as he did so.

“Well, this is awkward,” Arthur leaned back in his chair and stared at Merlin.

Merlin looked down into his coffee cup, a little desperately, like he could find the secret meaning of life at the bottom if he just looked hard enough, and wouldn’t meet Arthur’s eyes.

“So you’re not even going to say hello?” Arthur asked.

“Hello, Arthur. Long time no see. IED take off your dialing hand, too?” Merlin’s voice was quiet and even, and Arthur almost couldn’t hear the poison backing the words.

“Real nice.”

“Yeah, well, the whole world doesn’t actually revolve around you,” Merlin said.

Arthur blew out a breath of air in a barely-there whistle. He wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to say to that. Morgana hadn’t given him a script. She’d just told him to ‘fix it’ and stop annoying her with his ‘man-pain’.

“I really doubt Morgana was the one who came up with this bright idea,” Merlin told the table next to his coffee cup.

This _was_ her idea, dammit. Arthur was just an innocent bystander. Morgana had been exaggerating when she said his ‘moping around’ was distracting her. Arthur didn’t mope. He was a Marine, for Christ’s sake.

Merlin leaned away from the table, his coffee cup marking a demilitarized zone as impassible as the one between the Koreas. Arthur was stuck on the wrong side of the DMZ, trying to figure out what was going on across the miles of table between them.

“I remember when you couldn’t pry us apart with a crowbar, back in high school,” Arthur tried.

“This airport coffee tastes like shit.”

“So, you want to get out of here?” Arthur tried again.

“I used to believe you could fix anything,” Merlin stood up from the table and threw his half-full coffee cup into the garbage can near the Starbucks counter. The cup fell neatly into the can, but droplets of coffee flew out to splatter against the front of the counter. The barista gave Arthur a dirty look, even though he hadn’t done anything.

“So, we’re not even friends anymore, then?” Arthur stood, getting ready to follow Merlin if he took off. Merlin had never used to run from anything, but it’d been five years and a lot of silence, and there’d been that stranger looking out at him from behind Merlin’s eyes earlier. Arthur might be his ride, but it wasn’t like the kid couldn’t afford a taxi with the money he’d made from risking his life on the Bering Sea for the past four years since he’d graduated high school.

Merlin followed the coffee cup with a wad of crumpled up napkins. Two points. Kid should have been on the basketball team in high school. Instead, he’d followed Arthur around like an annoying younger brother and joined the wrestling team when Arthur did. Maybe Arthur should be happy Merlin hadn’t followed him to the Marines as well. Even if it had led to them not talking for five years. Even though the idiot had chosen a career almost as likely to kill him.

“Man, we used to do everything together. Lord, I can still remember the first time I took you frog-gigging, and you near took your damn fool Yank eye out with your own fork,” Arthur laughed weakly. Merlin stilled momentarily before he walked away from Arthur, following the signs to the baggage claim.

“I never did understand the appeal of frog legs,” Merlin replied emotionlessly.

Arthur stared down at the floor in front of him as he followed Merlin’s lazy amble through the airport, suppressing a smile. Merlin’s tone of voice was damn near identical to when he’d first said those words, nine years ago.

Arthur probably could still fix anything he cared to. Merlin hadn’t made a break for the taxi stand yet, after all.


End file.
